


Her Daddy, His Babydoll

by orphan_account



Category: Sucker Punch
Genre: Age Difference, Bathing/Washing, Comfort, Daddy Kink, F/M, Kink Meme, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels good to be his baby girl, it feels okay, safe. She can be herself and not be afraid of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Daddy, His Babydoll

He asks her to call him Daddy.

She doesn’t have a problem with it. She thinks she ought, but her father died a long time ago, before she could understand the meaning of the word, and the man who married her mother was nothing to her at all. No – no memories of what it means besides a contrived notion that it should bring back memories of love and kindness, faced with reality where there’s no protection at all, no hiding place from a drunk stepfather.

The High Roller offers her what she wants, so there’s no denying of what she gives in exchange. It feels sort of good, and she’s ashamed to admit it at first, the dirty wrongness of it all: but it doesn’t take much to realize that there’s no shame about feeling secure in her Daddy’s arms, when the real shame comes from Blue and her stepfather. The realization that it isn’t her body’s fault, but theirs and theirs only, is a fact that takes longer to understand, but she is learning. There’s still discomfort and embarrassment, a fear of her own skin and what’s inside, of her own skill to tease and please, but Daddy helps her with it.

He undresses her in front of the mirror. She leans against him as his fingers untie her hair, breathing slowly against his chest and inhaling the scent that brings her comfort before staring at it, watching her Daddy still fully clothed where she isn’t, and knowing he’ll be proud if she doesn’t avert her eyes. He is – and he kisses the top of her head lovingly, his Babydoll, who surrenders bravely to him. It takes strength to give into protection when she still has her old fears, when during her entire life giving in meant being taken advantage of, but the High Roller isn’t the feared High Roller anymore. He’s taken upon himself to fit into a new role, and whatever he’s doing, she knows he would mean no harm. She’s his Babydoll, after all, and as much as he’s taken control, she knows how precious she’s to him. Daddy proves it to her every day.

He proves her it’s okay to be beautiful, combing her hair and buying her clothes, watching her dance whenever she feels like she can reclaim power through it. It feels good to be his baby girl, it feels okay, safe. She can be herself and not be afraid of it. That’s what he says to her when she stares at the mirror. “You’re beautiful.” And he means it, every time, and his words aren’t eager and desperate and ugly like the other men who stared at her, who breached through her body and vulnerability without care. He doesn’t break her – she’s too important for that – and from the deepest of his heart, she knows all he want is to mend all the pieces back together.

That’s why she stares into the mirror for him. She makes a real effort to listen to every word, and believe them, because she’s beautiful and no one will ever hurt her again because of it. She’s beautiful and there’s no shame and no fear, there’s only love.

Babydoll slips her fingers under her Daddy’s shirt when he invites her over to the bath, undressing him because she also likes to tend. The necktie goes away, then the shirt, and Babydoll folds everything neatly, getting on her knees to pull his pants off too. Her Daddy never tells what he’s expecting of her, but she likes being a good girl – at least for him – and she leans in and takes him into her mouth, glossy lips sliding over his flesh as he sucks in and draws her breath, careful, minding her teeth, like he taught her once and only once (he doesn’t like repeating himself, and she’s a fast learner). His fingers never leave her hair, caressing her as she works hard to earn it. There’s never impatience: Babydoll picks up her own rhythm, and her Daddy’s hands never force her down or pull her blonde strands, like some might’ve liked to do. His fingers are steady, holding her firmly in place, but not without gentleness, so that she might get away if her jaw or knees hurt. She has taken an habit of not telling him when it does happen, but somehow he always seems to pick up the cues of her tiredness, telling her to stop even if it feels so good his hips buck and his legs tremble.

He helps her up, picking her hand and guiding her into the bathtub, sitting with her between his legs, cock resting between her thighs. Daddy turns on the faucet, filling the tub with warm water, and it’s of Babydoll’s own accord when she pulls herself up, adjusting herself not without some trouble, and forces him into her, moving inexperiencedly, slow in a way she doesn’t know to be so teasing. There’s a gleam of pleasure in his eyes and he chuckles, but her Daddy is never unkind to her, and helps, guiding and taking control this time, when she wants him to. There’s never too many words spoken between them, but they don’t need to, when they know each other just so well. As long as he’s her Daddy, and she’s his Babydoll…


End file.
